


In M's Embrace

by sztikerami



Series: UruhaxReita 50 [44]
Category: Jrock, the GazettE (Band)
Genre: Hospitalization, Kissing, M/M, Mental Health Issues, One True Pairing, Self-Harm, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-20
Updated: 2011-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:08:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22353133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sztikerami/pseuds/sztikerami
Summary: "The fear of losing his loved one was always there in him. And Uruha never made it any better."#20 - Fear
Relationships: Reita/Uruha (the GazettE)
Series: UruhaxReita 50 [44]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/56828
Kudos: 3





	In M's Embrace

**Author's Note:**

> English isn't first language. Beta'ed by xlunabluex @ LJ.

_The fear was always there in him, the fear of losing his loved one. And it was slowly killing him, like arsenic mixed with vinegar and chalk, it did not much harm but it was still there to poison him. And it hurt, the constant urge to throw up, that never-fading stomachache, the headache that couldn't be cured – they all were caused by fear. He was sure one day he'd die because of this fear._

_And Uruha never made it any better._

“You shouldn't have done it.” Reita said. His voice was low, almost inaudible in the white room. The whole place smelled of sterilizers. It made him sick, even though he could have gotten used to it among the years. He had been visiting Uruha in different hospitals for so many years he couldn't count. Ever since he knew the other. But he always hated hospitals, and he was glad there was a chair in the room he could sit on, otherwise he would have collapsed already.

“I know...” Uruha's voice was husky. He was laying in bed, white, sterilizer-scented bedsheets covering him up, almost immobilizing him. He looked worn-out and weak, dark circles were drawn around his eyes by the painful treatment he received in the hospital, his eyes were bloodshot and his full lips were pale and dry. “I couldn't resist. I'm sorry.”

An apology didn't help Reita much. It didn't make the fear disappear. “I'm afraid you'll end up killing yourself one day.” he mumbled, looking down at his hands. “It's a dangerous game to play, Ruru-chan.”

Uruha sighed and closed his eyes for a second. A trembling, cold hand reached out for Reita's trembling sweaty ones and squeezed them gently. The younger male was so weak the blonde could hardly feel his touch.

“I'll be fine. I can control it... I know what I'm doing.” Uruha whispered.

Reita shook his head and looked to the side to avoid the other's gaze. “You really do?” he asked bitterly. “Last time I checked attempted suicide wasn't the proof of someone's sanity. You need to stop doing this, Kouyou.”

“It's not suicide.” the guitarist shook his head and slowly sat up on the bed. Every cell of his body hurt from the movement, but laying in bed wasn't the best position for a serious talk. “I didn't want to die.”

Reita raised an eyebrow at that. “You didn't? I thought you... you know, that you were suicidal. Depression and stuff?”

The honey blonde sighed and shook his head again. “Depression? Maybe... But I'm not like a stupid emo teenager who cuts his wrists for fun. Neither am I a suicidal rockstar who had enough of the cruel world of the rich and famous. I took those pills so I could end up in hospital.”

“You wanted to get hospitalized? But why?” Reita asked. He tilted his head to the side and stared at his friend as if seeing an alien. Why would someone want to end up in hospital in a room smelling of sterilizers and fertilizers, in a room so bright and white it hurts people's eyes? “You needed a break or something? Because of stress? There are only two lives left of this tour, Uruha, don't tell me you couldn't bear doing two more lives. Now, thanks to you, they are postponed and we need to do them in January. January, in the two weeks when we were supposed to visit our parents, you know.” Reita's words were bitter, his voice almost angry. Yet he spoke in a low tone, the hospital was a sacred place where he never dared to speak too loud.

“It's not because of that, Rei.” Uruha told him. His eyes looked sad, Reita couldn't not notice it, because he couldn't resist looking into those beautiful but now bloodshot chocolate brown orbs. “You've never asked the doc, have you?”

“I have, every time. But they told me they are only allowed to give information on a patient's condition to close relatives, and being your childhood friend and bandmate doesn't make me one in their eyes, even though I have told them we are practically family. Even the manager failed to make them speak.” The bassist ran a hand through his messy blonde hair, giving Uruha a pained look of guilt. As if it was his fault...

“Have you ever heard of Münchausen syndrome?” the younger male asked.

There was silence in the room for a long while. Reita frowned and looked down at his feet, his usual habit when thinking hard. He scratched his nose (now uncovered, his noseband had been left at home on his nightstand) and slowly shook his head. “No, I don't think so...”

“Then go home and google it.” Reita furrowed his eyebrows at his best friends words, but stood up and went out of the room. If Uruha didn't want him there, even though he wanted to stay by his side until he recovered, he would just leave. So he went home and did exactly what Uruha told him to do: googled it.

As he pressed 'Search', a list of various sites appeared on his computer's LCD screen. Wikipedia as a first result, followed by sites of psychiatrists. And as Reita read through numerous pages, he slowly paled. And paled some more. It was really like arsenic mixed with chalk and vinegar, this poison of fear. Reita was sure, he would be afraid until the day he died. It was constant. Not erasable.  
“You shouldn't have come back.” Uruha mumbled, looking out the window. It was the next day, the morning sun was shining through the window, making the guitarist narrow his eyes because of those disturbing rays of lights, yet he didn't turn towards Reita. He didn't dare to. All these years he had been keeping it a secret, but now his best friend knew how messed-up he was in the head. He was sure Reita was afraid of him. Or, which would be worse, pity him.

“You could have told me.” The blonde obviously ignored Uruha's words. “I'm your best friend. We're not supposed to keep secrets from each other, Kouyou.”

“Telling you would only make you push me away.”

“You're stupid.” Reita shook his head and approached the other's bed. He sat down on the corner of it, right beside Uruha, their elbows touching. “Just because you have problems, I wouldn't throw our friendship away. You're important to me, Kouyou, and I would never judge you by your medical records. I know what kind of person you are, and that's the only thing that matters to me.”

“But...” Uruha started but was interrupted by an index finger pressed against his lips. Reita cupped the other's cheek and made him turn his head to look at him.

“I did a little bit of research. They say Münchausen syndrome is about seeking attention. You want attention?”

“No...” Uruha muttered. “I just...”

“You only want to feel needed. Loved. Treated well. Right?” The honey blonde stared at his childhood friend for a long while. It wasn't that simple, yet...

It was.

Finally, he shrugged. He couldn't give a proper response, he was unable to explain how he was feeling. Uruha was never good with words, his way of talking about his deepest thoughts was the music he made. Nonetheless, Reita understood him.

“You're not alone, I hope you know that.” he said, giving Uruha a small but gentle smile. “And you're not alone with your problem either. I feel like that, too. I just... deal with it in a different way. No medications, no doctors and absolutely no hospitals, because places like this make me freak out.”

Uruha couldn't hold a chuckle back. “Then why do you come and visit me each and every time I'm hospitalized?” he asked.

“Because it's you.” Reita answered truthfully and Uruha's eyes went wide in disbelief.

“I mean that much to you?” The guitarist's voice was trembling.

“Finally you have realized.” the blonde snorted. “And they call me a dork. Idiot.”

Uruha swallowed hard and looked down at his own two hand. His fingertips on his left hand were red and calloused of playing the guitar. He practiced too much, he had that bad habit, his guitar was with him even in the hospital. He needed that instrument. There was three things he couldn't live without: music, alcohol and a certain blonde on his left.

“It started when my aunt got sick. She had cancer and the entire family spoiled her to no end. Before she got diagnosed, no one gave shit about her, but when they learned she could die anytime... she became important to everyone.” He needed to tell it. He needed to tell someone. “She told me she felt so important... I wanted to experience that too, because... My family seems to be ideal and yes, I have a lot of friends and now fans, even, yet I always feel so alone and unloved. It's stupid, I know.”

“It isn't.” Reita shook his head. “I feel that a lot, too. And as I've told you, I have a different way to deal with it.”

“What do you do?” Uruha asked.

“I call my childhood friend.” the blonde grinned. “You know, he answers his phone even at 3am, and tells me to fuck off, but always ends up listening to me.”

“Wait. So you call me in the middle of the night to talk about football results, stupid vehicles and other random shit because...”

“Because I seek comfort. You listening to me makes me feel less alone.” Reita admitted, though a small blush appeared on his cheeks.

Uruha was silent again, watching his friend. He had never thought Reita could feel lonely too. The other always appeared to be a cheerful, playful dork to him, he had only seen him depressed a couple of times, for example when Reita's grandfather died.

“I want to be comforted just as much as you, Ruru.” the blonde whispered, as if he was afraid someone else could have heard them, though they were alone in the room. Breaking the silence to tell secrets always made him feel uncomfortable. But with Uruha, he wanted to be honest. Always.

“Akira... can I call you in the middle of the night too?” the other asked after a long while, taking the blonde's hand in his own, calloused skin meeting calloused skin, yet both of them felt it soft.  
Reita smiled at Uruha and kissed him lightly on the lips, making the other's heart skip a beat. “You don't even need to ask.”

_The fear never went away. But at least he was now with him, and could watch over him and protect him from himself. He allowed the other to use him for comfort, his body, his mind and soul, just as much as he was using the other. He couldn't make Uruha stop, he couldn't make the disorder go away and place the shattered glass pieces back to their respectable places. But at least he could be with him to help him survive. It was a pact of love. And for the time being, it was enough._

_For a lifetime, it was enough._

_And after that? Well, we'll see._


End file.
